


the little boy that Santa Claus forgot (and goodness knows, he didn't want a lot)

by ididitjustforthis



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Clay and Emma are as solid as the rock on her finger, Clay deserved better, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, but they get a surprise guest, happy holidays, more a one shot that takes place during christmas, not really a christmas one shot, peripheral Ashholes, sad childhoods, so I added smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27902149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididitjustforthis/pseuds/ididitjustforthis
Summary: Emma and Clay receive a visit from the ghost of Christmas past. Or not a ghost. But definitely someone from the past.
Relationships: Emma Hayes/Clay Spenser
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	the little boy that Santa Claus forgot (and goodness knows, he didn't want a lot)

Hiking the strap of his duffel higher up his shoulder, Clay stepped into the elevator and thumbed the button for the 3rd floor. The team’s most recent spin had cut close to their block leave. Much to their relief and the relief of their families, they managed to complete the mission and be home with a week to spare before Christmas. 

And Clay loved Christmas. 

Or he was learning to at the very least. 

It wasn’t a sentiment he ever expected to feel. At all. In fact, Clay was still acclimating to looking forward to the holiday rather than treating it as another date on the calendar to be marked off like any other. It had taken time and patience from those around him but the change took hold steadily. Now he couldn’t imagine bah humbugging it the way he used to, shutting out the rest of the world until the New Year rolled around and the festivities were finally laid to rest. 

Now he had something to be grateful for. He had a family to celebrate with. 

Clay had grown to like putting up the trees and lights and ornaments. He enjoyed the decorations and the food. Trying to find the perfect gifts, especially ones that get a rise out of Sonny. He loved, more than anything, the feeling of being surrounded by his brothers and his family in a moment of peace and togetherness. 

The music he was still a little iffy on. But listening to Emma belt out the words to  _ All I Want For Christmas Is You _ while pointing at him mid-shimmy as she placed bulbs and baubles on their tree was worth it. 

She had become the best part about a lot of things since they’d gotten together. He had put effort into making new traditions for himself. Now he got to start building those with Emma. And when he finally gets to add that wedding band to her finger, when they grow a family of their own, they’ll build even more. 

As he stepped off the elevator into his apartment hallway, Clay’s tiredness was overtaken by the spark of excitement he felt at getting to come home to Emma. Especially when she wasn’t expecting him. 

Clay could hear music playing on the other side of the door. The song, crooning and slow, was almost melancholy. Opening it, he was met with the wafting smell of baked sweets. The source was quickly apparent when he caught sight of Emma at the kitchen island. Her back was turned to him as she dusted powdered sugar over snowflake shaped cookies that sat on a wire cooling rack. 

He smiled at the vision she made in her fluffy slippers and oversized red sweater that slipped further off her shoulder with her movements. Taking advantage of her not hearing him enter, Clay dropped his bag next to the door and made his way silently behind her. Within reach, he stepped forward quickly to bring his chest flush with her back as he wrapped his arms around her middle and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

“Smells good.”

Emma yelped in surprise before giggling at the tickling sensation of his beard rasping against her sensitive skin.

“You’re home!” She exclaimed, putting down the sifter and rushing to grab the dish towel. “I thought you were going to be delayed.”

“It ended up working out.” 

Clay dotted kisses along her neck and shoulder as she cleaned the residue off her hands.

“But I can leave and come back later if you want.” He offered.

“No you will not.” 

Emma tossed the rag down and twisted in his hold to rise up on her toes, wrap her arms around his neck and draw his mouth down to hers. She sighed into the kiss as her lips parted, reveling in the taste of Clay as he kissed her deeply. His hands were warm as one of them snuck up her sweater to caress the skin at the small of her back while the other tangled in her long golden locks. Emma could feel some of her tension leave now that he was home safe and sound.

After breaking the kiss slowly, she gave him a bright smile, her eyes shining with happiness.

“Welcome home.” Emma breathed, her fingers combing through the short hairs on the nape of his neck.

Clay smiled and pecked her firmly in response before glancing over her shoulder at the bowls, baking sheets and bags of icing and sugar spread across the surface.

“I see you’re making a mess.”

“I’m decorating cookies.” Emma corrected. “The chaos is organized.”

Clay hummed, tilting her chin up and to the side with his finger. “Did you organize to wear it too?”

He leaned in and kissed away the powdered sugar Emma had managed to swipe across her cheek while she laughed.

“It’s a cute look on you.” He licked the remnants off his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Clay intoned low, dragging his hands down her sides. He inclined his head until his nose almost touched hers. “You know what would look even better on you?”

“What?” Emma grinned at the playful look in his blue eyes that were rapidly darkening with desire.

“Me.” He quickly slid his hands to cup the back of her thighs and lift her smoothly off the floor. She threw her head back in laughter, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he carried her off to their room. 

“Clay, I have to finish the cookies!” Emma protested half heartedly.

He continued forward into their bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him with his foot.

“Finish them later.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

When later came, the cookies were completed and stored away after they polished off a couple between them. ‘Quality assurance’ as Clay put it. 

After cleaning up the kitchen Clay and Emma settled down in the living room for the Harry Potter movie marathon that aired every year during the holidays. Clay had neither seen the movies nor read the books to Emma’s astonishment. She talked him into doing both, and now they’d spend a lazy day curled up together to binge the entire thing when it came on. 

Armed with snacks, they had a half-finished bowl of popcorn on the coffee table along with a container of peppermint bark and Christmas crack. The last one was Clay's favorite. Emma had used it as a bribe to get him to put on the festive pajamas she found for them the week before. 

It was something she started doing after Clay's first deployment. In an effort to feel closer to him when he was away, Emma would find a set of men's pajamas in his size. The bottoms would be stowed away in his duffel and she’d keep the top for herself. Two pieces of a whole. It made sense considering Emma’s habit of stealing his shirts to sleep in anyways. 

Reindeers pranced happily across the red and green flannel. They were soft and warm and perfectly comfortable for the winter chill, even if she had to roll up the sleeves so they didn’t swallow her hands. Clay liked them despite his protests. He always appreciates the things that connect them, even if it’s sharing pajamas. 

The two were snuggled comfortably on the couch. Clay was reclined on his back, his head propped up on a throw pillow with an arm securing Emma against his chest. He watched as she fiddled with his fingers, lacing and unlacing them with her own. Her gaze had drifted off a while ago as she traced swirling patterns over his knuckles. He gently squeezed her waist to get her attention.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” He murmured.

“What do you mean?” Emma tilted her face up, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

“You’re stress baking.” Clay stated.

“I baked the cookies for Naima’s Christmas party on Saturday.” She frowned.

“And our snacks. And the tupperware full of brownies and blondies next to the fridge. You’re stressing.” He calmly pointed out. “Besides, you only play Norah Jones when you’re feeling anxious about something.” He cocked his brow, challenging Emma to tell him he was wrong.

Clay’s concern grew as several emotions played across her face before she took a deep breath and released it in a shaky exhale. Emma sat up and grabbed Clay’s hands to haul him upright with her. 

She hesitated a moment, gathering her thoughts. 

“Something happened while you were spun up.” Emma started carefully. 

Clay stiffened, his posture straightening as his eyes searched her face. “Is everything okay? Are you okay? Did- have I done something?” 

“No!” Emma exclaimed, shaking her head vehemently. Her hands rose up to cup his cheeks reassuringly. “Sweetheart, no. It’s nothing like that. I’m fine.  _ We’re  _ fine.”

Clay nodded slowly, confused as Emma dropped her hands back into her lap. Her jaw worked as she chewed on the inside of her lip before she got up and crossed the room to the kitchen. She opened a drawer and pulled something small out before shutting it and making her way back to the couch. 

Emma sat facing him, one leg tucked underneath her while she leaned against the cushion. She slowly twirled a small business card in her hands as she contemplated how to possibly explain this to Clay. 

His gaze darted between her face and the card as he waited. 

Taking a deep breath, Emma met his eyes. “A woman came by the other day.”

She handed him the card, which was blank except for a name and number printed neatly in cursive. 

“She was looking for you.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

_ 2 Days Earlier _

Emma was in the middle of taping up boxes for packing when a knock came from the front door. 

It was an odd occurrence as the team was out of town on a spin and she knew for a fact that most everyone else was occupied with their own plans that day. A small bolt of fear shot through her. It always does for anyone with loved ones in the military when they receive unexpected house calls. It lasted until they knew who was on the other side.

Opening the door, Emma was met with a woman she had never seen before. She was about Emma’s height and looked to be in her late 40’s-early 50’s. Her shoulder length hair was a light blonde which did well to help hide the streaks of gray. She wore a Burberry coat over a cashmere sweater and dark wash jeans. Clean and simple, but well-made. Expensive. 

The familiarity of her eyes is what caught Emma’s attention the most. The shape and color. The intensity of them as they looked at her in that moment, studying her as closely as she had been by Emma.

“Hello.” Her voice was light but measured as if she had been practicing. “I’m looking for Clay Spenser.”

“May I ask who you are?” Emma inquired, knitting her brow.

“My name is Carrie Bryant.” She paused for a moment. “I used to be Carrie Spenser. I’m Clay’s mother.”

Dumbfounded by the news, Emma gaped at the woman standing in front of her. It would’ve been less alarming if she had grown three heads on the spot.

Shifting uneasily, Carrie motioned her hand towards the inside of the apartment. “Can I come in?”

Still in shock, Emma wordlessly stepped to the side and held her breath as the woman her fiancé hadn’t seen in 25 years walked into their home.

After closing the door, Emma wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. Of all the things her parents taught her to do, knowing how to react to her soon-to-be mother-in-law that abandoned her son was not one of them. 

Carrie stood in the center of the living room, turning in a slow circle to take in the pictures and personal touches of the people that lived there. Of Clay. She focused on a framed photo from their engagement party. The two were smiling brightly for the camera, Emma tucked into Clay’s side with her left hand resting on his chest, showcasing her ring. They looked incandescently happy. 

“You’re getting married...”

Carrie’s hand twitched towards it for a moment as if to pick it up before she seemed to remember that she was a total stranger in her son's home. Turning back to Emma, she gave a tentative smile. “I’m guessing by the look on your face that you know about me then.”

“A bit.” Emma’s tone was clipped and uncertain. “ Clay told me what he could, but it wasn’t much considering you left when he was so young.”

Carrie nodded, her brow pinched in pain. “I regret that.”

Ignoring the comment, Emma moved forward with questions of her own.

“How did you find him?”

“I’ve thought about finding him for years.” Carrie answered softly, rubbing her hands together. “I tried reaching out to Ash. He certainly wasn’t too hard to find.”

A laughable understatement. Ash made it a point to take advantage of any news and press coverage he could get to bolster himself and his career. His contact details were readily available for anyone who saw fit to throw him a bone. 

“I think he enjoyed listening to me beg.” There was a trace of bitterness in Carrie’s voice as she continued. “All he would say is that his boy followed in his old man’s footsteps.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “And then he told me to go play in traffic. Though I doubt that was for Clay’s benefit.”

Emma nodded but remained silent. It was very much like Ash to gloat at someone else’s expense. Narcissists rarely saw the line, especially when empathy was involved. He enjoyed twisting the knife.

“I tried seeing if I could find him online the way people do these days, but there was barely a whisper of him on there. I was almost afraid I was looking for a ghost.”

Her hands fluttered in uncertainty at her sides before they flew to her bag as if remembering something. Letting her designer tote slide down her arm, she opened it to remove a thin folder. 

“I hired a PI. My last ditch effort. It took a couple months but he finally found him, though all he could give me was an address.” She pulled out a sheet of paper that looked to be an online form as if to provide proof. “Luckily there’s not too many Clay Ashland Spenser’s in the area.”

Carrie gave her a shaky smile but it faltered quickly when she was met with no response. Placing the file back in her bag, she hiked it up her shoulders, her hands gripping the straps tightly.

Her eyes flew around the room once more. Only this time they locked onto the Bravo insignia emblazoned on a baseball cap placed on the side table next to the couch.

“I guess he really did follow Ash.” She uttered sadly, her brows furrowed. 

“Stop!” Emma barked suddenly, her arms uncrossing and falling to her sides. Her hands balled into fists. 

Carrie jumped in shock at the harsh response. “Excuse me?” 

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. You don’t know Clay!” Emma stated with unwavering conviction. “He’s kind and loving and a thousand times the man his father could ever hope to be. Just because he’s a SEAL doesn’t make him like Ash!”

“He told you?” Carrie wrung her hands.

“Clay doesn’t like to talk about it, but he’s told me enough.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“I’ve had the displeasure, yes.” Emma remarked flatly. 

It wasn’t by her choice or Clay’s. Ash had a tendency to insert himself in his son’s life when the urge hit him. He tried to treat her like Clay’s previous girlfriends who were willing to accept the playful facade he painted. The proud father who cared about what was going on in his child’s life. But Emma knew better. She saw straight through him, something that acted as a deterrent when he realized he couldn’t charm her to his side like the others. 

“Then you understand-”

Emma held her hand up swiftly, cutting her off. “I don’t know why you’re here, but if it’s to make excuses then I’m the wrong person to be giving them to.”

“Right.” Carrie shifted on her feet again, looking ready to run. “When will Clay be back?”

“I’m not sure.”

Nodding as if she expected that answer, Carrie reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. Stepping towards Emma, she held it out with a reluctant look on her face.

“Could you give this to him? When he gets back?”

Unclenching her hand, Emma reached out slowly and accepted the card. She was tempted to shred it to pieces right then and there, but that was Clay’s decision to make. 

Carrie sighed in relief, her shoulders sagging momentarily. She gave Emma a timid smile. “I’ll be in town until next Tuesday. He can reach me at that number and maybe we can meet before I leave.”

Emma worked to keep her expression neutral. “I’ll make sure he gets it.” 

Happy as she could be with the outcome, Carrie nodded to Emma and made her way to leave. 

“Don’t come back.” Emma called before Carrie stepped over the threshold. She froze in her tracks at the command. “ I’ll tell Clay you were here and I’ll give him your card, but I won’t make him meet you. If he decides he wants nothing to do with you and you don’t hear from him, don’t come back.”

Carrie slumped forward for a moment. Her grip on the door frame and handle seemed to be the only things keeping her upright. Emma wondered if it had ever crossed her mind that even if she did find Clay, it wouldn’t change anything. If that was why it took her so long to finally reach out. What chance would she have left if Clay refused? There’d be no forgiveness to be had.

Turning back slowly to Emma, she nodded her head.

“I understand.” She responded hoarsely. Gesturing towards the card in Emma’s hand, she continued. “If he changes his mind after I’m gone, the number will always be the same.”

Her eyes shot around the room, taking in as much as she could one last time before they focused back on Emma. “It was nice to meet you…”

“Emma.”

“Emma.” Carrie nodded once. “I hope to get to see you again.”

Emma said nothing as Carrie finally shut the door and seemingly disappeared back into the ether from which she had emerged. Striding towards the door on shaky legs, Emma flipped the lock before leaning back against it and sliding down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs, bringing them in close to her chest so she could bury her face in her knees.

Her racing thoughts had zeroed down to one single question.

How was she going to tell Clay? 

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

_ Present _

Silence filled the room as Clay processed Emma’s words. The expression on his face fell into blank stillness the way it did when he was on an op. Shoving down emotion and distraction in order to take in as much information as he could. 

Usually he had no issue maintaining the carefully cultivated mask, but Clay could feel those walls he’d built to compartmentalize his emotions shudder from the impact. This wasn’t a mission thousands of miles away with people he’d never met before. This was his mother waltzing into his home after over two decades of absence looking for him.

“All this time.” Clay muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on an imaginary spot on the ceiling.

Emma scooted across the couch to bring herself closer to Clay. She grabbed one of his hands from his lap, sandwiching it between her own and waited patiently for his attention to shift back to her.

“Did you believe her?” Clay rolled his head towards her. 

Emma didn’t suffer fools. A trait she inherited from both her parents. He valued her judgment above all, and in this moment it seemed better to trust hers than even his own. Clay had been burned by both of his parents too many times to see them clearly.

“I believe that she regrets not being able to take care of you.” Emma answered. She hesitated a moment but pushed forward truthfully. “But I don’t think she regrets leaving.”

Clay nodded slowly, his mouth set in a hard line. 

He gripped the card tightly in his free hand. “You want me to talk to her?”

“I want what you want.” Emma insisted. 

She leaned forward and plucked the card out of his hand to toss it on the coffee table. Emma swung her leg over his to straddle his lap. Clay’s hands automatically settled on her hips while she gently cupped his face in her palms. 

“This is up to you.” Her expression was open and honest as she leaned in to catch his conflicted gaze. “If you decide things should stay the way they are then I will support you.”

“But?” Clay sensed she had more to say. 

“But,” Emma conceded. “I know you. And I know that you won’t be able to put this behind you until you find out what she wants.”

Feeling him tense up again, Emma slid her hands to the back of Clay’s neck and rested her forehead against his.

“You’re my priority.” She poured emphasis into every word. “I will stand by you in whatever you choose. Always.”

Feeling his emotions well up, Clay wound his arms around her to pull her as close as possible. Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he buried his face in her neck.

“I love you, Em.” 

“I love you too.” She tenderly carded her fingers through his curls.

After holding him for a long moment, Emma pressed a kiss to Clay’s temple before leaning back to meet his eyes again. 

“You don’t have to make up your mind right away.” She smoothed her palm over his bearded cheek. “Take some time before you choose. I’ll be happy as long as you’re at peace with your decision.”

“Okay.” Clay agreed quietly. 

Releasing a large sigh, he brought his hand up under her hair to cup the back of her neck beneath her collar. He gently kneaded the warm skin with his strong fingers before leaning in to catch her lips in a soft kiss. There was no heat or passion in that moment. The intimacy behind it wasn’t intended to be a prelude to sex. The tender pull of their lips was a means of comfort for them both. It was reassurance that no matter how this panned out, whoever came into their lives or left, this would always be theirs.

Ending the long, languid kiss, Emma tilted her head and nodded in the direction of their bedroom.

“Let’s go to bed.” 

She moved from his lap and tugged him up with her, flipping off the TV and leading him towards the bedroom. 

Emma didn’t see the harm in going to bed a little bit earlier. She knew sleep would not come easily for either of them, but at least she’d be there to hold him when it felt as if his emotions were going to swallow him whole.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Clay was unusually quiet the next couple of days.

Emma made it clear that she’d gladly listen if he needed to talk more but otherwise left him alone about the subject. He’d always been one to internalize his battles, though she knew he had it out with Ash over the phone the day before. Clay was not someone who yelled. He could project when he wanted and was largely animated during conversations. But the fury Emma heard in his voice was almost alien in nature. 

He clammed up even tighter after that, though it loosened slightly when she practically tackled him into their bed to give him a massage. He’d at least gotten a nap while Emma worked to undo the knots that had built up since this all began.

Clay did his best to smother the war going on in his head during the Christmas party, especially for the sake of the kids. But there was no hiding that something was off with the way he was turning away his favorite foods and leaving Sonny to enjoy himself unscathed. 

He seemed to be functioning on autopilot. Clay was physically present and would speak when spoken to, but when his part in the conversation lagged his eyes got that distant look. Like he was suddenly millions of miles away. 

The team knew better than to push him when he got like this. They weren’t on a time crunch to straighten themselves since no missions or deployments were on the immediate horizon. Holding him down to make him talk during a family gathering didn’t seem the way to go either, so they did their best to engage and distract him when they could. 

Unable to resist, Jason pulled Emma aside when Clay was surrounded by the guys. He maintained that as father of the bride it was his job to make sure everything was okay between them. Emma could see the relief when she assured him that what was bothering Clay had nothing to do with their relationship or work. There’d been slight panic that it was something medical but she quickly shut that down before it could snowball.

Emma accepted that there were things Clay kept from her. Matters he wasn’t allowed to talk about outside the confines of the team. It came with the job, which she knew long before they started dating. Emma also knew that her father was more aware of the things Clay had seen and done that gave him nightmares or kept him from sleep entirely. 

But when they were home, when the missions took a back seat, she was his secret keeper. Emma knew his dreams and fears and insecurities. Clay trusted her to be his confidant and the safe harbor he would always be able to find even in the worst of times. It was a privilege that she would never betray. 

That being said, Emma had no issue in telling her father that he and the rest of the guys would have to wait for Clay to come around in his own time. It wasn’t her story to tell. Jason had accepted it, though reluctantly, of course. He didn’t hide that mother hen plumage nearly as well as he thought he did. 

But the party had continued without incident and soon the two were back in their apartment, getting ready for bed. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Emma exited the bathroom in her nightgown to find Clay seated on his side staring straight ahead at the wall.

She pulled back the covers on her end as he slowly removed his watch to place next to his wallet and phone on the bedside table. Just as she kneeled one leg on the sheet to crawl in, Clay spoke.

“I’m going to meet her.” His voice was quiet but it cut through the silence in the room. The weight in his statement was palpable. 

“You were right,” Clay leaned his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t let this go until I know what she wants.”

Emma crawled across the bed and came to rest behind him on her knees. She leaned forward and kissed the nautical star between his shoulder blades before weaving her arms underneath his to wrap around his waist. 

“Are you sure?” Emma hooked her chin over his shoulder and watched his profile.

“I already sent her a message asking to meet tomorrow.”

Emma tightened her hold around his abs. “You’re allowed to change your mind.”

“I know.” Clay brought one hand to lay over hers and squeezed. “It needs to be done.”

“Okay.” She whispered into his skin. She felt his ribs expand as he took a deep breath before exhaling in tired gust. 

Emma pulled him back with her as she reclined against the pillows. She tugged the blanket over them as Clay slid further down the bed, his thigh sliding between hers while his arms encircled her middle. His head came to lay under her chin between her breasts. Emma scratched softly across his shoulders with one hand while the other raked soothingly through his hair, trying to get him to relax. 

Both were dreading the next day while also being eager for it to come to pass. There was no telling what damage might be done. But the faster it happened, the faster they could deal with the fall out. 

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

The diner Clay had chosen to meet at was almost two towns over. It looked to be frequented by a few regulars and the rare traveler that strayed from the main road. Carrie suspected it was to avoid the risk of turning any place he actually liked into a reminder. 

She’d gotten there early, almost 45 minutes before they agreed to meet. She had nearly paced a hole in the floor of her hotel room waiting for the clock to tick ever so slowly. Unable to wait any longer, she’d grabbed her bag and had the front desk call a taxi to bring her here. At least she didn’t have to worry about being late.

The pit in Carrie’s stomach grew when she realized her worries were akin to making a good first impression on a stranger. But this was her son. 

She checked the time on her phone again. Her booth was the furthest from the door and the other customers who were dotted along the counters and windows. The smiling faces on her phone background gave her some comfort but not enough to ease the mounting anxiety. Carrie grabbed napkins from the dispenser and proceeded to wipe down the table for the fourth time. Even after adding a little bit of water from her glass, the surface was still sticky. 

Carrie shot an apologetic smile at her glaring waitress. No doubt the growing pile of crumpled napkins gave the impression that she thought the place was dirty. 

Turning to look back out the window, Carrie’s breath caught in her throat as a grey truck pulled in. No one got out right away but she could see the silhouette of a man through the back window. Hope filled her as she watched him sit still, not shifting or turning his head. A couple minutes passed but Carrie kept her eyes locked on. When he finally budged, she could see him lift his arms to scrub both hands roughly through his hair. 

When he finally stepped out of the truck, Carrie felt like she could cry just at the sight of him.

Her Clay. 

She’d seen his picture when she was at the apartment, and she knew what to look for if he agreed to meet. But nothing prepared her for seeing the man her little boy had become. 

Even with several yards and a diner window between them she could make out his features. He had inherited Ash’s height but that’s where the similarities stopped. She remembered him having her eyes and her mouth, but Carrie was startled at how much he reminded her of her own father. The dark blonde curls and wide set shoulders. The shape of his ears and nose. The cut of his jaw. 

If she had not known Ash was involved in making him she’d think Clay was all hers.

Carrie’s back became ramrod straight when he opened the door and stepped inside. She watched him quickly scan the other customers before his eyes finally came to rest on her. She raised her hand as if to wave just in case he had any doubts. In case he’d forgotten what she looked like. 

Clay’s stride was slower as he walked towards her booth. Carrie’s hand dropped back to the table as he came to a stop next to her. She could just barely push air past her lips to speak.

“Hi.” She breathed, stunned.

His jaw clenched for a moment before he finally answered back.

“Hello.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Part of Clay expected her to look exactly the way she did the day she put him on that plane. Another thought she’d be worn from time and sadness. She was neither of those things. 

Missing were the lines around her face and eyes that she’d had even when he was a child. There were no dark bags or hand shaped bruises and she didn’t look too skinny from skipping meals so he could eat. If anything Carrie looked a bit younger than she actually was, and healthy. That dashed the idea that this had all been some dying wish she had to make amends. 

Clay slid into the seat across from her in the booth. He ordered a cup of black coffee from the waitress who had come over as soon as he sat down. She came back quickly with a mug on a saucer plate and filled it almost to the brim before leaving them with the explicit instruction to flag her down if they needed anything else. 

He felt like a specimen under a microscope as Carrie studied him. Clay wondered how he measured up and if she’d run again should she find him lacking. 

“I’m so glad you came.” Her voice was soft like she was trying to coax a frightened animal into trusting her.

Clay nodded in uncertainty.

“I’m sorry. It’s just,” She clasped both hands in front of her mouth and smiled. “-you’re so tall. And you have a beard.”

“I’m 31 now.” Clay reminded her. “I’m pretty sure the last time you saw me I’d just lost my first tooth.”

Carrie’s smile faltered. She dropped her eyes to the table and nodded in acknowledgement before nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. 

She took a sip of her coffee and cleared her throat to try again.

“I met your fiancée. Emma, right?”

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful. And very protective of you.”

“Emma takes good care of me.” Clay nodded but didn’t elaborate further.

The silence was awkward and Carrie seemed to fidget her hands more and more with every passing second. 

“I saw all the boxes in your apartment.” She attempted casually. “Did you just move in or-”

“I used to tell people you were dead.” Clay cut her off abruptly. 

Carrie reared back in shock, her face draining of color. 

“When they would ask me about you. Because it’s what I told myself for a long time. It was easier to pretend that at least one of my parents left me because they didn’t have a choice.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

_ 25 years ago _

The hustle and bustle of the airport was fascinating to 6-year old Clay Spenser, who sat quietly in the terminal. His short legs swung idly while he clutched his patchwork bear and watched the planes be skillfully maneuvered up to the gates on the other side of the floor to ceiling windows. Observing the bevy of people that got off and on was so different from the image he was used to when he and his mother saw Ash off on the tarmac. The picture in front of him was almost disorganized by comparison. 

There were no uniforms or salutes. No large crates or carefully packed duffels. The people would jostle and shove, some in a panicked rush while others strolled idly to their destination. Not anything like the controlled atmosphere he was used to seeing. 

Others were dotted around in chairs and some on the floor. Across the walkway in another waiting area he could see a small family where the children played several rounds of jumping jacks before their mother pulled out a deck of cards. Clay wanted so badly to play too but he knew better than to move. His mother was so stiff in her seat next to him. She was probably worried that they would miss their plane.

“We’re gonna go see Nana and Pop?” His little voice asked.

“Yes, baby.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, swallowing the tears. “But it’s going to be a long trip to get there.”

A lie. 

Unbeknownst to Clay, this was a journey he would be making himself. And Carrie wouldn’t be joining him.

Just thinking about it was ripping her apart but she knew it was the right thing to do. 

It had to be. 

She spent 5 years withering away in her marriage. No job and no prospects with a young son to raise and an absentee husband who expected her to keep house and home while barely providing the means to do it. Even when Ash did come home it was only to sleep or criticize her abilities as a wife and mother. And if he wasn’t tearing her down he was at the bar. Drinking or picking up frog hogs to spend the night with.

Ash never even bothered to hide it. Being on a tier-1 team afforded him a certain level of clout and privilege. The Navy wasn’t going to throw away millions of dollars worth of training just because one of their operators was a bad husband and a crap father. Not being around was part of the deal as long as he was willing and able to keep operating. Everything else was collateral.

When he finally decided that he’d had enough of marriage and fatherhood and left them to fend for themselves, Carrie knew she wouldn’t be able to survive. Nor would Clay. Ash had effectively pulled the floor right out from under their feet. She tried to make ends meet by herself. Keep them both going on the meager tips she received working at the diner, but they still had to scrounge to keep afloat. 

Carrie had taken Clay to as many Navy wife gatherings as she could just to make sure they had enough to eat. She despised the pitying looks she could feel from the other women when they thought she wasn’t looking. After all, without Ash she didn’t technically belong in their circle any longer. So Carrie swallowed the acid building in her throat and scrimped and saved, putting aside as much money as she dared to prepare for this.

Her parents had readily accepted her back into their lives and were thrilled at the chance to see their grandson. They were good people with good hearts. The best parents anyone could hope for. Carrie was sure it must have burned to see her stray so far when she met her husband. The fall was even harder when she all but threw herself off the face of the earth the day she said “I do” to Ash Spenser.

She could only hope that their forgiveness would extend to this too, when they found out this trip was one way and that she couldn’t take Clay back when it came time for him to come home. 

_ “Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for Delta flight 82 to New York. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass ready. Thank you.” _

“Time to go, baby.”

Clay nodded and hopped from his seat, putting on his small backpack and grabbing his mothers hand as she led him to the smiling boarding agent next to the gate. 

“This is our little traveler, huh?” The woman accepted the ticket Carrie held out to her. “Don’t worry we’ll make sure you get to where you need to go. The stewardess will be with you in a moment to escort him onto the plane.”

Giving the woman a shaky smile, Carrie turned to kneel down in front of Clay. She took his little hands in hers.

“You’ve got your book in your backpack and your blanket if you get cold. Mommy also made sure to pack you some snacks in between meals because it’s going to be a long trip.”

The gate agent continued helping other pre-boarders but gestured to Carrie that they’d need to take him soon as well.

Her breathing sped up as she zipped up Clay’s jacket and adjusted his collar. The lump in her throat became thick as the reality of what she was about to do came down upon her in an unrelenting wave. She swallowed heavily and continued talking.

“This nice lady is going to get you seated on the plane, okay? There’s going to be a few stops in between here and Nana and Pops but listen to her and do what she tells you to do.”

Clay peered at her in confusion. “You’re not coming to visit too?”

“No, baby. Mommy has some things that she has to do here. But you’ll see me again. Don’t worry.”

His tiny brow scrunched, hesitant about what she was saying. But ever the good son he readily agreed like she knew he would.

“Okay, Momma.”

“Okay.” 

Not yet able to let go, she caressed his smooth, trusting face and thick blonde hair, trying to memorize his features as best she could. She didn’t know how long it would be until she got to see him again. If she ever got to see him again. 

“Ma’am, it’s time.” The gate agent gently prompted.

Carrie nodded and pulled Clay’s small form to her tightly.

“I love you, bub.” She whispered.

“I love you too.”

Carrie gave him a trembling smile before standing up and gently nudging him into the waiting hands of the flight stewardess. Clay accepted the palm extended to him and started the trek down the tunnel. He looked back halfway and waved to her with his bear still in hand. She waved back and watched the last view she’d ever have of her son disappear.

She watched from the other side of the windows as the passengers began to board. The tunnel closed on the last person and the tube retracted back from the plane as the engines began in earnest. A part of her felt like it was screaming even over the high pitched noise she could hear through the thick panes of glass.

This was for him too, Carrie told herself, not bothering to wipe away her tears despite the concerned looks. She would build a better life and one day he can be a part of that. He’ll remember what they went through and he’ll see that it was the right thing to do. Because she loves him. Clay knows that she loves him. He knows. He has to know...

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

_ Present _

“I had nothing to give you.” Carrie’s eyes were shut tightly as her fingers pressed into her forehead. “I barely had enough to keep myself going.”

“‘Nothing’ would’ve been better than letting me think you didn’t want me anymore than Ash did.” Clay stated in a harsh tone.

“I thought it was the right thing to do for you.”

“For  _ me _ ?” Clay laughed incredulously. “When is sending a child to a war zone  _ ever  _ the right thing to do? When you got tired of being a mom? Was having Ash treat his family like a hobby he wasn’t interested in anymore not enough?”

Carrie shook her head vehemently as if to prevent the words from being true.

“Things were such a mess. I know you don’t remember it all but I knew your grandparents would keep you safe.”

“Safe is a relative term when the best you can hope for is not getting murdered for trying to help people.” He stated ruthlessly. “You’re right, Nana and Pop were good people and they’re the reason I am what I am. But that doesn’t wash away seeing women who were raped and mutilated and children that were orphaned because their families were slaughtered or displaced.”

Her face crumpled further in on itself with every word Clay bit out.

“But don’t worry,” He continued without sympathy. “I’m sure that was better than pinching pennies to shop at No Frills and wearing hand-me-downs from Goodwill.”

Carrie’s body bowed as if dealt a physical blow. Her head nearly touched the table as she trembled, feeling like her whole being was going to shatter knowing the reality of what she sent her child to live through. 

“I knew there was a chance you might not want to see me, that you couldn't forgive me.” She pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes as if to drive the tears back in. “But I had to try.” 

She grabbed more napkins from the table dispenser to wipe her face. The thin brown paper became damp with tears and smudges of her make-up. 

“I know you probably wish I had never come looking for you,” Carrie took a deep shuddering breath.” “but I owe it to you. And I owe it to myself and your siblings.”

Clay’s face went slack from shock. He felt as if ice had been poured into his veins. 

“Siblings?”

Carrie reached beside her for her bag and pulled out a single photograph with shaking hands. She slid it across the table in front of Clay. Five smiling faces stood grouped together in front of an autumn forest. The leaves were various shades of yellow, orange, red and green. Looking at Carrie in the photo compared to now, Clay knew this had to have been taken recently.

A Thanksgiving family photo perhaps. 

How touching. 

“I met someone a few years after you went to live with your grandparents. I was finally in a good place.” She pointed her finger to a man with salt and pepper hair standing in the middle of the group. “Mark. He's a good man. A doctor. We have two girls and a boy together.”

All three children had varying shades of brown hair and blue eyes. The oldest girl was probably around Emma’s age while the youngest, the son, looked as though he might be in his last couple years of high school. They stood with their arms around each other and their parents, caught mid-laugh by the photographer. 

They looked happy. 

Clay was sure she could never imagine sending them away the same way she did him. 

“They’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.” She smiled faintly.

“Wow.” Clay gave a derisive snort. “You really did just start a whole new life for yourself.”

“No.” She protested, shaking her head rapidly. Her eyes were wide with panic at what she had just insinuated.

“I’m glad tossing me away worked out so well for you, Carrie.” He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet and dropped it next to his untouched mug.

“It’s not-that wasn’t what I meant!” She lunged across the table to grab his jacket sleeve. “Please!”

Clay jerked his arm from her hold and threw his hands up with the palms facing her.

“I’m not doing this.” He stated, his voice flat and resolute. “I’m done. 

Jumping out of his seat, he ignored Carrie’s cries behind him and stormed out of the restaurant. Clay was almost to his truck when he felt hands grasp at his arm for his attention. 

“Clay, wait! Please!” She wept, no longer trying to stifle her tears. 

He whipped around in her hold. 

“Why did you come here?” He demanded. “What do you get out of this?”

“To be a part of your life.” Carrie implored. 

“That’s not going to happen!” 

He could practically taste his anger now, wrapping himself up in it tightly. The only alternative was to cry like he did when his grandparents had to explain that there was no going back to the States to be with his mother. There would be no one waiting for him to come home.

“I'm not going to spend Christmas with you like we're a happy family so you can pretend you didn't leave me behind to start a new life!” Clay boomed. “I'm not going to send you mother’s day cards. I'm not inviting you to my wedding. You. Can’t. Undo. This.” 

Carrie’s whole frame shook with her heaving sobs. 

“I know I don't deserve it, but all I'm asking is a chance. I just want to know you.” She voiced in broken gasps.

Clay shook his head and backed away from her towards his truck. 

“Look, you got what you wanted. You saw me. You talked to me. I can't give you anymore.”

Ignoring her pleas, Clay climbed quickly behind the wheel and shut the door. 

He could see her collapse down to the asphalt in his rearview mirror, her legs unable to support the heavy intensity of her grief. The last thing Clay saw as he pulled away was her curling into a ball with her arms wrapped around her head. 

Clay punched the steering wheel with a pained growl. His eyes filled with tears at the bitter victory of not being the one left behind this time.

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

Hours after Clay had left, Emma sat on the couch with newspapers and boxes scattered around the coffee table. She tried to distract herself with packing non-essentials. The project was quickly pushed aside as she watched the numbers on the cable box below the TV slowly change with the passing of time.

Just as Emma thought she might revive her habit of chewing her nails to the quick, the sound of keys being inserted into the lock filled the room. 

She jumped to her feet, nudging boxes aside as Clay’s sullen form entered the apartment. He wordlessly dropped his keys into the dish beside the door and walked straight to their bedroom. Not a single sound.

Emma debated with herself for a moment as she heard the shower in their bathroom turn on. She received a text from her dad earlier who mentioned that Clay had been spotted in the base gym. Apparently he’d gone after the punching bag so viciously that whoever saw him was afraid he was going to hurt himself. Especially since he hadn’t bothered to wrap his hands. 

However she expected this confrontation with his mother to go, Emma could see that the outcome was not what she had hoped for. The last thing she wanted was to watch him suffer in silence more than he already had been. 

Making up her mind, Emma marched swiftly to the bathroom. She refused to let him lick his wounds alone. She picked up the trail of clothes he left in his wake and put them in the hamper before entering the bathroom. The mirrors were already beginning to fog with steam. 

She could see his still form through the frosted glass of their shower, his arms braced against the wall while his head hung down beneath the spray. Emma peeled off her clothes and gathered her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head as she approached. She didn’t bother announcing her presence before opening the shower door. He’d known full well she was there the second she entered the room. 

She stepped in behind him and watched as water trickled from his downturned head taking with it his soap and shampoo. Emma could see his hands against the wall over his shoulder. The knuckles were split and swollen, tinging the area around the drain red as the water washed it away in thin rivulets. 

Emma grabbed the soapy loofah from where he had dropped it and gently ran it over the long planes of his back. She took her time focusing on his shoulders and the blades that framed his tattoo. Her eyes followed her hand as she made wide circles starting from the valley of his spine outwards to his sides until she stopped at the small of his back, briefly sloping over the firm globes of his behind. Emma did hear best to leak out any tension she could with the small comfort. She couldn’t take away his pain or make the memories go away, but she could at least wash his back. 

After Emma finished with the bathing tool and placed it on the shower rack she tugged Clay away from the wall to turn around and rinse off. She stepped in close until they almost touched and ran her hands over his skin to trail the water over the remaining suds. Her touch traveled down his shoulders and arms to his hands. Bringing them up to chest height so she could look at them, Emma could tell she’d have to put ointment on them before they went to bed but nothing seemed broken.

She brought both hands up to her face as she glanced up into his eyes. His expression was no longer stormy as he watched her tenderly kiss the area near the cuts. The lines of frustration were still present even if whatever anger that had been the cause of his injury had ebbed.

Letting go of his hands, she rose on her toes and kissed him softly. Emma’s nipples pebbled as they made contact with Clay’s chest and she sighed when he placed his palms on her hips, responding back to her ministrations. The stiffening cock she felt against her stomach reminded Emma that this moment wasn’t about her despite how easily aroused Clay made her. It was about giving him a release.

She let one hand slide down between his pecs, nails scratching lightly over the rigid crests and valleys of his abdomen. The muscles twitched under her touch when she reached the defined cut of his V line. His fingers dug a little further into her supple skin in anticipation. 

Clay’s parted lips hovered over hers, no longer kissing but close enough that she’d only have to tilt her head up ever so slightly to meet them again. His breaths became shorter as Emma trailed the pads of her fingers lightly through the curls at the base of his cock. Her touch circled underneath his manhood to trace up the thick vein until she reached the end, twisting to collect the bead of moisture already leaking from the tip.

They’d learned each other’s bodies well in their time together and with that knowledge comes confidence. Emma held no hesitation when her small hand wrapped around his hard length, finger tips barely able to meet around the girth. Clay was heavy and hot in her palm as she slowly pumped up and down his shaft. 

His hips began to shift with her movements and stuttered when she would pause to massage her thumb on the sensitive patch just beneath the head before returning to firm strokes. She licked into his mouth when she could feel him thicken, his orgasm on the verge of exploding. 

Just as she thought he was going to let go, Clay stopped her motions and crowded her back against the wall. Emma moaned as he plundered her mouth with his tongue before placing his hands on her waist and spinning her around to face the tile. 

“Hands on the wall.” He muttered low in her ear. She’d never been more thankful for the non-slip bath mat and the spaciousness of their shower but thoughts of anything but Clay were erased when he pressed himself flush to her petite frame. Emma’s breathing sped up when his large hands came up to cup her perky breasts. He squeezed the pliant flesh, circling her rosy nipples before pinching and rolling them between his fingers. Her back arched, pushing her further into his touch and grinding her ass back against his erection.

Just as she knew how to touch him, he could return the favor tenfold. 

Letting go of one of her breasts to slide down over her stomach and mound, his fingers glided through her soaked folds to make sure she was ready for him. Even in times like this when he was taking what he needed, Clay would never risk hurting her. 

He worked one finger and then two into her tight entrance, scissoring slightly to loosen her walls. Emma turned her head towards him with a moan and was immediately caught in a wet, open mouthed kiss. It was feverish and deep and she lost herself in the sensation of being consumed and surrounded by him. Clay slid his long fingers deep before curling them inside her. A high-pitched whine escaped Emma when she tore away from his mouth. Her muscles involuntarily clenched around his digits when he effortlessly found that spot she could never reach and rasped the pads of his fingers relentlessly against it.

Just as she was about to reach her own peak, Clay pulled his touch away from her and slid his fingers, slick from her juices, over the side of her hip to her ass. Emma moaned in frustration while he grabbed his cock, pumping his fist as he nudged her legs further apart. A large hand came up to intertwine with one of hers, almost crushing it against the tile wall. Clay leaned over her and lined up his cock. 

She jolted when his length slid through her folds and bumped her clit before bringing the bulbous head to her tight slit. Emma let out a sharp cry as he sheathed himself completely in a single thrust, almost bringing her up on her toes.

“Fuck.” He groaned into her shoulder.

Emma could feel his chest expanding against her back as his breathing picked up in earnest. Clay secured his arm around her waist and started moving, the tempo of his thrusts building up quickly into an unforgiving pace. The only noises Emma could make out over the shower was his pants next to her ear and the fleshy sound of his groin smacking against her ass. She was grateful for his hold on her as her legs shook at the pleasurable burn. Her pussy struggled to hold his cock as he stretched her walls tight on every inward thrust and left her feeling almost empty when he pulled back until he filled her again.

Her hand scrambled to find a good grip on the wall with her nails scratching against the tile while the other stayed firmly in place. Clay reached up to turn her face towards him before focusing his fingers on her clit. Emma sobbed into his mouth as her hand flew down to grip his wrist. Her nails began to dig into the hard muscle while the rapid circles on her clit pulled the already fraying rope of release in her belly tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. 

Emma breathlessly spasmed in Clay’s arms, her pleasure drawn out by his thrusts until he pulled her hips tightly against his with a grunt. The vice grip of her coming on his cock triggered his own orgasm and she mewled at the warm feeling of his come filling her.

She felt boneless in his hold as she basked in the euphoria. Clay shifted against Emma’s back, pulling his softening member carefully out of her before removing their joined hands from the wall and gathering her to his chest. She placed her palms over the limbs he had banded around her waist and sunk back into the comforting feel of him as he placed tender kisses on her shoulder. 

The air around them relaxed as Clay pulled her under the spray to help her clean up before turning off the now lukewarm water. When they stepped out of the shower he secured a towel around his waist and grabbed another for Emma. She held her arms up for him to wrap the terry cloth around her. Instead of releasing his hold once he wound it around her back, Clay held her tighter. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured into the soft hairs on her temple. 

“Don’t be.” Emma kissed the warm, damp skin over his heart before looking up and locking her blue eyes on his. “I’m right here.”

Clay smiled, small and soft as he tucked a few strands that escaped from her bun behind her ear. He pressed his forehead to hers, lightly nuzzling the tips of their noses. It was easy to hold onto those dark emotions. To dwell on how things could’ve been different if Carrie had tried harder to keep him. But it all seemed so small in the presence of what Clay had right in front of him. The past contained a lot of what-ifs, but his present and his future held so much more promise. 

“I know.”

~~~~~~*~~~~~~

The atmosphere had calmed over the next couple of days. Clay still held a light undercurrent of tension but instead of shutting down he would seek out Emma. Whether it was reaching for her hand or putting his arm around her to hold her close, just having her near seemed a balm to whatever wound his mother coming back into his life had reopened. 

He finally told the team what was going on as well judging by the increase of well-wishers they’d received. 

Naima and Ray stopped by to drop off casseroles claiming they’d made too much when her family came into town. The kids followed closely behind with their gifts and Jameelah had given him extra hugs before they left. 

Brock came by with Pepper before he went to visit his family. His father was allergic to dogs so he usually boarded her in the base kennel, but he insisted that the K-9 seemed a little lonely this year and that he’d really appreciate it if she could stay with family. If Pepper happened to function as emotional support for Clay, that was just an added bonus. 

Her dad and Trent crammed in multiple trips to look over the apartment for anything that needed to be fixed before they moved. It was under the guise of making sure they got their full deposit back but Emma saw how her dad hovered close and the way Trent seemed to be scanning Clay for any signs that he wasn’t taking care of himself. A tongue lashing had ensued when Trent checked his hands after his foray into bare knuckle boxing. 

Even Sonny had jumped at the opportunity to help them pack despite his previous complaints of ‘workin’ for free on my vacation’. When the work was done and it started getting late, he and the rest of them had been reluctant to leave. They were all concerned about their youngest brother and were horribly obvious at being unable to stay away.

But Emma was so glad for the outpouring of love Clay was receiving. Each of them had pulled him in for an embrace in some fashion or another. Despite the tittering and teasing at the displays of affection, his countenance was noticeably lighter every time. 

For all that had been taken from Clay and all that he had lost, the family he built for himself was as steadfast and permanent as they come. It was just as Adam had promised Clay on that trip to California those years ago. Team is the only family you need. 

Clay had shared that moment with Emma when the anniversary of his death came around. He felt immense gratitude for Adam encouraging him to find his place. His love for his job had grown when he became Bravo 6, not only for the enjoyment of being on the teams but because it gave him his brothers and, in a way, set him on the path to her.

When Christmas morning came, Emma woke up unusually early for someone who wasn't a morning person. But she’d greeted the day with an excited smile and rolled over to Clay who slept peacefully for the first time in almost a week. She peppered kisses over his lips and cheeks, wishing him a Merry Christmas before pulling him out of bed so they could finally open their gifts. He chuckled as she practically skipped out to the living room in front of him.

After exchanging gifts with a mix of hugs and a plethora of kisses, they got ready to head to Jason’s where the team would gather and give their own presents after enjoying a hearty Christmas breakfast. Emma just finished putting in her snowflake earrings as she moved to add her phone charger to her purse when a knock sounded from the door. She opened it thinking it would be Mrs. Evans from down the hall who delivered treats to all the building tenants on Christmas Day. That was not the case. 

Instead of being met by an elderly woman bearing snickerdoodles and ginger snaps, there was nothing on the other side of the door except for a large express delivery box addressed to Clay. Emma tried to pick it up but was surprised by the heavy weight. She stepped out into the hallway and leaned over to scoot it into the apartment, giving it one last heaving shove towards the couch before standing straight with a huff.

Pepper watched calmly from her place on the recliner. The sender had been obscured by packing tape and barcode labels but she figured if a bomb sniffing dog had no reaction then they were in the clear. 

“Babe, a package came for you!”

Clay finished buttoning up his shirt as he stepped out of their bedroom. He looked confused at the large parcel. His Christmas shopping was well past done and anyone else he expected to receive gifts from were currently gathering at Jason’s. He eyed the box curiously as he flicked his pocket knife open in one fluid movement. Clay quickly cut through the tape on the edges before slicing the long piece down the middle. The slight bulge at the top sent the flaps springing open. 

He folded them back to reveal multiple stacks of books in different colors, sizes and states of wear and tear. On top lay a single envelope with his name. 

Emma sat down on the couch next to the box and pulled three out for inspection. Clay stared at the familiar cursive that perfectly matched the writing on the business card.

“They’re journals.” Emma remarked in surprise. “All the entries are addressed to you.”

Grabbing a book with a frown, he flipped to random pages and read the first couple of lines before opening another. Each one was dated within a day of the last and varied in length. But as Emma had said, every page started the same way.

_ Dear Clay, I heard your favorite song… _

_ Dear Clay, It’s your birthday… _

_ Dear Clay, I made a room just for you if… _

_ Dear Clay, I showed this to your sisters. They want to write… _

_ Dear Clay, I miss you… _

_ Dear Clay… _

_ Dear Clay… _

“These go back years.” Emma pulled more journals out of the box and scanned the dates. 

Clay swallowed the lump in his throat and set the journal in his hands down on the coffee table. He slowly opened the letter. Inside were two separately folded sheets of paper, both looking as though they’d been ripped out of one of the books. The first one was a few brief lines. 

_ Dear Clay,  _

_ I know I made a mess of our meeting and I can’t blame you for being so angry with me. The things that I’ve told myself to justify what I’ve done were shown to be nothing more than desperate and wishful. I’ve missed so much of your life and I’d give anything to get back the years I put between us. Maybe someday you’ll see fit to give me that chance.  _

_ I hope that reading these can be a start. _

_ Your mother, _

_ Carrie _

The next letter was dated for the past Sunday. The same day he had gone to meet her. 

_ December 21, 20XX _

_ Dear Clay, _

_ I’m about to see you for the first time in over two decades. Reading that sentence back to myself seems too absurd to imagine. I’m your mother and I don’t know anything about the man you’ve become.  _

_ I should be able to make you your favorite food and pick gifts in your favorite color and buy you t-shirts for your favorite sports team. I should’ve watched you graduate high school and join the Navy. I should’ve been there to meet the woman who is about to become your wife.  _

_ But I know that I’m responsible for the distance that transformed me from a mother into a stranger. _

_ Part of me is hoping that you’ll be the same little boy who gave me smiles and hugs so freely. That you’ll understand why I did what I did. But we both know that asking for those things is asking for the impossible.  _

_ I have felt like a piece of my soul has been missing since the day I sent you away. And today, I feel like I’m finally getting the chance to be whole. _

_ I can’t wait to see you. _

_ All my love, _

_ Mom _

He let the letter fall limp in his grip as he gazed at the stacks with a new understanding. The feelings though, were wholly unfamiliar. 

“Should we send them back?” Emma asked him quietly.

Clay folded up the letters and replaced them in the envelope. He was silent as he packed the books back into the box and moved it over to join the other stacks waiting to be loaded up and sent to their new home. 

“We’ll decide later.” He held his hand out to Emma. “Right now we’ve gotta go celebrate Christmas with our family.”

She was surprised at the simplicity of his answer but set her palm in his to be pulled up. Using her upwards momentum from being hoisted from the couch, she popped up on her toes to peck him on the lips. 

Emma settled back on her feet to look at his steady features. No anger or hurt or frustration. It was only a sense of calm that remained and maybe, as she looked into his clear blue eyes, even a bit of hope. She smiled.

“Okay. Let’s go spend Christmas with our family.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my interpretation of what it would be like if Clay's mom came back into his life should she still be alive. 
> 
> I couldn't decide if Clay would cut his mother out completely or try to build a relationship with her so I left it open-ended. But the important part is that he knows he has a family regardless.
> 
> I don't pretend to be an expert on the history of conflict in Liberia around the time Clay was there, but from what I've read it sounded incredibly dangerous and not at all where a young child should be sent to live. Props to Nana and Pops for stepping up to the plate though.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Please leave me some feedback in the comments. Thanks for reading!


End file.
